


Taking One For The Team

by awarrington



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Dubious Consent, First Time, Imprisonment, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awarrington/pseuds/awarrington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk is forced to endure unusual 'torture' at the hands of his captives (Or: Aliens Made Them Do It!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking One For The Team

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a commentfic on the Livejournal Kirk/Spock community in response to this rec request from ravyn_still. This was supposed to be my very first PWP, but LiveJournal commentators pointed out this story does, in fact, have a plot. Warning: involves Vulcan masturbation and human (stunned) voyeurism!

“Do it!” the Galaan chieftain ordered.  “You will obey me or your captain will die.”  
  
“You can’t do this…” Kirk began.  
  
“Be silent,” the chieftain growled, slapping his face with such force Kirk swore he saw stars.  He found himself thanking whatever deity the Galaans worshipped that the alien's claws had been retracted.

Eyes watering, his face smarting, stinging and hot, Kirk felt his anger rising.  Despite the Galaan’s belief to the contrary, Kirk’s main concern lay with Spock and what they were expecting him to do.  As a Vulcan, Spock epitomized his race – private, reserved and dignified.  To ask him to do this was wrong on so many counts.  Not for the first time, Kirk wondered how the fuck they managed to get themselves into these situations.  
  
“I apologize Captain,” Spock said quietly.  “I believe I have no choice but to acquiesce to their demands.”  
  
The quiet words made Kirk feel even worse for his friend.  He’d been beaten while Spock was made to watch.  Now came the final act: ‘A fate worse than death’, the chieftain had called it: to have one’s subordinate defile you, the act forever robbing you of your honor according to the principles of the Galaan warrior culture.  
  
Spock’s hands went to the front of his trousers as Kirk watched mutely, knowing further talk would bring another sharp physical rebuke.  A year ago he would have spoken anyway, because he didn’t believe in going down without a fight.  But after several disastrous missions, Kirk had begun to realize that crew morale was adversely affected each time their captain returned to the ship injured or beaten.  
  
But this…this…was outside the realms of anything they had yet encountered and it made Kirk feel sick to his stomach in a way violence against him never did.  What he latched on to was the fact that no-one need know what had taken place.  But it wasn’t enough because Spock would know and Spock would know that he knew too.  Would he ever be able to comfortably live it down?  He couldn’t help but wonder how this act was going to affect their teamwork, their professional relationship, their newly formed and fragile friendship.  It had only been in recent months, since he and Uhura had ended their relationship, that they had spent more time together, sometimes working, sometimes doing other activities, like working out, playing chess, or just talking.  Would something like this drive Spock away from him?  
  
The roughly hewn stone floor of their jail made Kirk’s bony knees ache, but he couldn’t move with his thighs and ankles bound tight by thick cords.  He had no choice but to gaze directly ahead to where Spock stood before him, his eyes on a level with the pale hands that were unfastening his pants, sliding long delicate thumbs beneath the waistband of his black briefs.  
  
While the Galaan people might believe this to be the greatest act of degradation they could conceive, consigning the recipient to a lifetime in their gutter class, Kirk was utterly torn emotionally between feeling bad for Spock, and trying not to unconsciously lick his lips in anticipation at what he was about to witness.

The problem was that Kirk had been harboring a strong attraction to Spock almost from day one, but unfortunately he’d seen no sign whatsoever that the attraction was reciprocated.  If he was brutally honest, what was about to happen was way better than the best fantasy he’d had of Spock, and he’d had a lot.  It was only his concern for what his friend was being made to do that prevented him from truly enjoying it.  
  
As Spock pushed the cloth down, Kirk’s eyes automatically followed the line of hair that was slowly revealed from its point of origin at his naval down to where it fanned out into a dark wiry thatch.  At the same time, he became aware of a musky aroma and as subtly as he could, he breathed it in, savoring it.  Needing to see how Spock was taking this, Kirk glanced up and saw a look on his first officer’s face he had seen only once before, just before they had blown up the Narada.  Spock’s mouth was a thin line and his eyes held a murderous look.  Though they were gazing at one another, Kirk knew the look was not meant for him, but for their captors who, he felt certain, Spock would have no difficulty tearing limb from limb were he given the chance, IDIC and Vulcan pacifist philosophy be damned.  
  
Spock knew as well as he, that they had no chance of escape; that even his much-vaunted Vulcan strength couldn’t influence the odds stacked against them.  It was highly likely that any attempt would end badly for Kirk – the Galaans had quickly discovered that threatening his captain was the most effective way to control the Vulcan.  
  
A movement in the corner of his eye caused Kirk to tear his eyes away from Spock’s face back to where the black cloth was being pushed further down to reveal a cock, not unlike his own, but with a green tinge to it.  He appeared cut, though Kirk had no idea if that was a natural state for Vulcans, never having gotten this close and personal to one before.  It appeared to be a flaccid state, longer and slightly narrower than his own cock.  
  
Spock wrapped his slender fingers around the length, gliding his fist from base to tip as Kirk watched, enthralled, at the way his first officer’s cock began to fill and harden to something like tempered steel.  To have that inside of him, filling him… Spock wasn’t the only one erect, Kirk’s own cock having hardened in arousal at this specter of awesome Vulcan malehood in all its glory, right before his very eyes.  The green hue had deepened to a forest green and the two ridges just beneath the corona flared in a pulsing rhythm to the relentless physical stimulus.  Kirk swallowed, eyes glued to the vividly visual feast, his mind stuttering to a halt.  
  
Spock’s fist traveled along the length of the rigid flesh with a surety of movement that left Kirk wondering how often he must have resorted to this as a means of relief since he and Uhura split.  He imagined Spock lying alone in his bunk with only a bulkhead separating them, his hand working his cock just as he was doing now – the sheer eroticism of that thought would feed his fantasies for some while to come.  
  
Liquid crystal drops began to appear at the slit, each one swept away by the slide of Spock’s thumb on each downward stroke in what looked like a highly practiced maneuver, to collectively form a natural moist barrier against chafing.  His oh-so-cool first officer was clearly well-versed in the art of the jerk-off.  
  
All Kirk wanted to do in that moment, was to lean forward and taste; to swirl his tongue over the spongy head, to discover how alike or different Vulcans and Humans are.  As tortures went, this one was in a class of its own.  
  
Kirk glanced up again to see if there was any clue how Spock was taking it, but his eyes were averted, his cheeks bearing the signs of a faint green flush.  Then, all at once, Spock visibly inhaled, his nostrils flaring, and Kirk knew with a sense of shame that keen Vulcan senses had picked up the scent of Human arousal.  Spock shifted his gaze down and the look of surprise was immediately evident to him in a slight widening of his eyes.  In that moment, Spock had realized that Kirk was about as far away from the Galaan’s objective of making him feel utterly degraded as it was possible to be.  
  
And then Kirk saw it in the subtle crinkling of the skin around his eyes – Spock was amused, but there was something else there, too.  Affection? Indulgence?  Or was he just seeing what he wanted to see?  
  
With a degree of enthusiasm missing before, Spock’s hand speeded up and Kirk’s eyes dropped back to the swift movements, the fist almost a blur as the Vulcan’s breaths came in more rapid, shallow hitches.  Kirk felt a dawning elation at his friend's reaction, his own cock leaking in sympathy, his balls beginning to ache.  It took all of his control to remain still, to not give away to their captors the effect Spock's actions were having on him.  
  
And then it happened.  It was as though everything slowed down to a quarter speed.  Kirk watching in utter fascination as, with a gasp from Spock, the first rope of come jetted towards him, landing across his nose and cheek, then another landing in his hair, another over his nose, mouth and chin.  It took every ounce of his willpower not to lick his lips and taste Spock.  That had to rate as one of the single most erotic experiences of his life.  
  
Kirk had no time to savor it, as a moment later, he was being dragged to his feet by the chieftain.  
  
“Federation scum.  Return to your people, defiled and debased, and come no more.”  With that, Spock was handed his communicator and a moment later they were beaming back to the ship.  
  
The moment they materialized, Spock swung in front of Kirk, cutting off the view of him from Scotty who was manning the transporter controls.  
  
“Thank god ye’re both safe, cap’n.”  
  
Kirk had no chance to respond because in a moment, Spock had removed his uniform shirt, the material being applied to his face to remove evidence of what just happened, but not fast enough to prevent Kirk licking his lips and savor his first taste of Vulcan semen.  Less salty than a human, he decided with a grin.  
  
“Jim,” Spock said quietly, “I did not know.”  If Kirk had been in any doubt before, the open look from his friend told him that, yes, the attraction was entirely reciprocated.  
  
Kirk was too preoccupied to notice that Scotty had called security, showing up only a moment after Bones, who fairly flew through the door, his arrival cutting off any response to Spock.  
  
“What the hell happened down there, Jim?” McCoy demanded to know, still advancing on them.  “We’ve been trying to reach you for the last three hours.”  
  
Kirk sighed audibly when the blood supply was restored to his lower limbs, as the summoned security officer quickly cut away the two sets of cords that had bound his legs.  
  
“Two point seven hours, Doctor,” Spock corrected, turning to face the worried and irate CMO as Kirk, now free from his bonds, stepped down off the pad and approached a wall comm.  
  
“Sulu, get us out of here, maximum warp.  Aim us towards the nearest Starbase.  And…watch out for any Klingon vessels.”  
  
“Aye sir,” came the reply without hesitation and a moment later, the background hum of the engines changed note as the ship surged into warp.  
  
“Apparently,” Kirk said, turning back to the doctor, “some time between the diplomatic team leaving and our arrival, the Klingons made the Galaans a better offer for the right to mine pergium, leaving the Feds persona non grata.”  
  
“You look like you’ve been beaten up,” McCoy said, scowling at the feinberger he was using to scan Kirk, “ _again_.  I want you in med bay now.”  
  
“Bones, I’m okay…”  
  
“Now, Captain.”  It was the tone of voice the doctor occasionally used on him when he brooked no argument and, after years at the Academy, Kirk knew better than to hope he could change the doctor’s mind.  
  
“Can I at least just go and clean up?  I promise I’ll be there in ten minutes.”  
  
McCoy looked at Spock with a sigh.  “Make sure Jim does, okay?”  
  
Spock’s eyebrow soared.  “I am not the captain’s keeper, Doctor.”  
  
“You are now.”  He turned back to Kirk.  “Ten minutes, Jim.”  
  
Kirk’s heart-rate steadily increased during their journey to his quarters, wondering if Spock could hear it in the close confines of the turbolift, where they had carefully stood apart, separated by Scotty as he returned to engineering.  After they exited and made their way down the corridor, they walked so close to each other that their shoulders brushed and their hands occasionally touched, each contact sending a spike of electricity up Kirk’s arm.  
  
At the entrance to his cabin, the captain glanced over his shoulder as the door slid open.  “Are you coming in?”  
  
“Captain—”  
  
“Spock—” they began, simultaneously, as soon as the door had closed, affording them privacy.  
  
“No words, Spock.”  
  
Spock nodded and dropping the soiled uniform tunic he’d been carrying to the deck, pushed a very willing Kirk up against the bulkhead, making swift work of his trousers.  Kirk had lost his erection in the interim, but it took only seconds to become harder than he’d ever been, as a warm mouth wrapped around him and began to suck.  
  
Kirk’s head thumped against the bulkhead as he gripped Spock’s shoulders.  “Fuck, fuck…!  God, yes, just there…oh!”  
  
The sensations were incredible – almost overwhelming – and the sight of his cock sliding in and out of that perfect Vulcan mouth while dark sable eyes held his was too much.  To Kirk’s eternal shame, he exploded into Spock’s mouth after mere seconds of stimulus, the intensity of it leaving him panting with effort.  
  
Spock stood up.  “Captain,” he began in a tone of voice that sounded way too normal for Kirk, as though he hadn’t just given his commanding officer the blow-job of his life, “you have three point…”  
  
Kirk cut off Spock’s comment with his mouth, stealing a long, lingering kiss –something he’d long imagined doing.  As their tongues slid together for the first time, Kirk got a taste of himself.  Temporarily sated, the kiss was more exploratory than provocative, though the sheer novelty of being permitted such intimacy with his normally aloof first officer excited him beyond belief.  
  
“Tell me that wasn’t a one-off,” he asked when he finally pulled away to drag some oxygen into his lungs.  He had to be sure of Spock’s intentions, not wanting to get his hopes up only to have them dashed.  
  
“That was not a one-off, Jim, if you desire more.”  
  
Kirk’s relief was almost palpable, a sense of elation sweeping over him.  There was no time to savor the moment, as he was conscious of his promise to McCoy.  Quickly stripping off his tunic and undershirt, he paused, not wanting to leave Spock in any doubt of his feelings.  “What I desire is you, all of you, Spock.  I have done for some time.”  
  
There was a faint quirk of his lips that Kirk had only recently realized was the closest Spock got to a smile.  “Then we are in accord, Jim, as my attraction to you is not new.”  Kirk grinned broadly and was about to kiss Spock when the Vulcan stepped back.  “You now have two point three minutes—”  
  
“He’s not going to be using a stopwatch – it won’t matter if I’m a minute or two late,” Kirk said over his shoulder as he headed for the shower.  
  
Spock stood in the doorway, his arms across his chest as Kirk stepped into the stall partially clothed and activated the sonics.  He grinned.  “Much as I’d like to leave your mark on me, I don’t want Bones noticing it.  How would I explain that away?”  
  
“I concede you have a point,” Spock concurred as Kirk stepped down and moved around him to re-enter his cabin.  He wanted another kiss, but now was not the time.  A minute later, he’d donned a clean tunic.  
  
Standing in the middle of his quarters, he watched as Spock approached to stand in front of him.  “Tonight, twenty hundred, come to my quarters?” the inflection in Kirk’s voice making it a request, not an order.  
  
The adrenaline high was beginning to fade, and as it did so, the aches and pains of his ordeal at the hands of the Galaan chieftain began to make themselves felt.  
  
Spock raised two fingers and Kirk duplicated the action, pressing their fingers together.  “I will come,” Spock said with his almost-smile, and Kirk laughed at the intentional double entendre.  
  
“I’ll see that you do,” Kirk promised back, and with a brief press of his lips to Spock’s mouth in a human kiss, he left for sickbay, a spring in his step and a smile on his face at the thought of how he might accomplish it.


End file.
